There Is No Door
by XXrainonmeXX
Summary: He wants to know if she feels the heat, the electricity. The sparks that tingle at his fingertips whenever they touch. He wants to know if she feels these things, ‘cause he sure as hell does. Oneshot. EO


Hey this is my first SVU story, so feel free to tell me if I'm writing out of character or anything. Any constructive criticism (or compliments ) are welcome as well. Just click the little button and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own SVU.

_**There Is No Door**_

_Another day, another case._ With a job like this, you would think that going home at night would be a relief. A break, and escape from the tension and horror of hideous sex crimes. It **should** have been an escape, an open door. But for the detectives of the Special Victims Unit, there was no such thing as an escape. Every day was a door-less room.

She stares at him with hollow brown eyes. He can't stop himself from smiling slightly, although he knows this isn't the time. He remembers how he used to look into Kathy's eyes, before the divorce. Before the world ended. He could always tell what she was feeling by just looking deep into her eyes.

He always knew she loved him, but couldn't stand his job; the late nights, the early mornings, the way the cases affected him although he tried to hide it. Maybe that's why she left, he muses. Maybe she couldn't stand the fact that the cases touched him deeply every day, while she couldn't get through to him no matter how hard she tried. It wasn't her fault; he knows he's closed off.

But then does that mean it was his fault? Was Kathy **the one**, the only chance he'd ever get?

_**If that was my one chance, then I sure blew it.**_

"El. Elliot!"

Looking up, he remembers where he is. Glancing at the clock, he sees that it's past eleven. The time doesn't surprise him; lately he has been staying at the precinct later and later, sometimes not bothering to leave for the night at all. Besides, he has nowhere to go, no place to escape to. **_There is no door._**

"I'm almost done with this pile."

He says this with almost no emotion, no trace of the weariness that has been plaguing him since he started the mound of paperwork three hours ago. In truth, he has been tired for longer than that. Ever since Kathy left him, he has wanted to just go to bed and never wake up again.

But then he remembers he has no bed, only the hard cots in the crib. And he has no one waiting for him at home, no way to escape.

"I'm almost done too."

At the sound of her voice he lifts his head slightly. He looks at her for a moment; in that moment time stands still. Staring into her eyes, he realizes that he can't tell what she's feeling. He knows she feels haunted and tormented, but that's a given in their line of work. He searches deeper, but still nothing. Her eyes are as dark and mysterious as a black hole, an endless abyss of emotion lying hidden just behind a door. **_There is no door._**

How he longs to know what she feels, what she's thinking right now, at this moment. Or at this one. Or this one. He watches seconds tick by, wondering. Wondering if she feels any joy right now, at this exact moment in time.

He wants to know if her mouth gets dry and her heart beats faster whenever she hears him speak. He wants so badly to see past the iron façade and into her soul. To know if she feels the heat, the electricity. The sparks that tingle at his fingertips whenever they touch. He wants to know if she feels these things. 'Cause he sure as hell does.

But for right now he can only wonder what emotions Olivia Benson is feeling, what sensations are coursing through her veins. Fear? Numbness? Defeat? He can only guess.

And so he does. It's an educated guess, based on the observations he's made over the years spent as her partner. He guesses based on what he knows about her, and what he knows about himself.

He is aware that it's crazy, maybe even insane. But for one moment, as he stares into those endless eyes, he truly believes that the attraction is too strong for her not to feel it. He makes a guess and takes a shot, hoping with all his heart that he's right. That maybe just this once, there will be a door.

"I'm done."

She glances over at his stack, wondering how he could have finished his paperwork before her, when just a minute ago their piles had been equal.

"No you're not."

Her tone is slightly questioning; she sees a good number of blank pages still sitting on his desk.

"You might want to consider getting glasses, El. There's still that whole stack of papers right there."

A feeble attempt at a joke; it's obvious she isn't expecting him to laugh. Her voice is hollow, like her eyes.

"No Liv, I'm done." He feels her eyes on him as he slowly stands up.

"I'm done pretending, hiding. I can't do this anymore, this job, unless I have some way to escape. The faces of the victims haunt me every night; I know they haunt you too."

She stands there frozen, eyes wide but still as cryptic as ever. Not exactly the response he was going for, and it unnerves him a little bit.

"I…I can't…I mean, I know I might be wrong. I honestly can't tell what you're thinking right now." He fumbles, stammers out an answer.

She remains still, as if rooted to that spot on the floor. The moonlight skims across her dark cascading hair, making it shimmer. She looks like an angel. It is then that he sees it; a little flicker of emotion crosses the darkness of her eyes. It flashes by quickly and then disappears. But he knows it was there, and he draws strength from this tiny sign. He knows there is a door there.

"I'm done hiding from the truth." He says this almost defiantly, daring her to walk away. Like Kathy did.

"What's the truth?" She questions him without really questioning. Almost as if she knows what he's about to do.

"The truth is…" He stares deep into her eyes and, with all the mental force he can muster, breaks down the door that separates his mind from Olivia's. And suddenly, he sees everything.

"The truth is, I'm in love with you."

Then he does what any good superhero, or leading man, would do. In one swift motion, he pulls her close and kisses her.

And to his relief, she kisses him back.

Relaxing, he deepens the kiss, feeling the electricity, the passion. Thinking to himself, "She's it. She's always been the one. She was the door all along."

The clock turns to twelve. _Another day, another case._ But somehow- to the last two detectives left in the building- things don't seem so dark anymore. It doesn't seem like the world has ended. It feels like it's just beginning.


End file.
